Life's Left Hook

You loosen your hug, and look down at her.

"And what's that?"

Scootaloo glances at the doctor, who has long since gone back to her work.

And then, she looks at you.

"We're going to Pearis in Prance, right?"

You nod.

"Okay then. I want you to take me to this one place Rainbow Dash was talking about. This one time, she was in Prance to perform for the Wonderbolts, and when they were done, they all went to this club. Club Lucius, I think it was called. I heard it was cool, and that the whole place was like one giant party with drinks and dancing and loud music and stuff. I wanna go there."

Is Scootaloo asking you to go to a night club?

"Uh, Scoots, are you sure you want to—"

"Of course I am! Dash talked about it all day at Sugarcube Corner one day, and told Pinkie everything! I really wanna go!"

"Scoots. I'm not sure you know what you're—"

"Anon, no, I know what I'm getting into. I know it's for big ponies, but I'm big enough."

Damn, she's persistent.

"You have to, dude. Or I'm not going to keep the secret."

With that sentence, you feel a shock go down your spine and your heart skips a beat.

"Fine, fine, I'll take you. But you're not leaving my side the whole time."

"Fine by me. Besides, you're probably the best person to hang out with, even though you're not really... Y'know... Someone that'd go out on the dance floor."

Oh, you have no idea...

You're paranoid of the dance floor.

You have crippling stage fright.

That's why you were never in drama, band, or sports in high school.

You didn't want to be watched.

Or, worse, laughed at.

"Y-yeah, I know."

"So, do we got a deal?"

You nod.

"I suppose. But, seriously, you're going to need to stay safe. Stay near me at all times. I can't lose you."

"You couldn't lose me if you tried, Anonymous. I'd never leave you alone."

Yeah, no shit...

You smile, bringing Scootaloo into another hug.

"I know. You're like a... Butt."

She looks up at you, giving you a fake glare.

"I'm a butt?"

You nod.

"You're a butt."

"Well why am I a butt?

You smile, tightening the hug a bit and holding her head to your chest.

"Because, even though you smell bad and you're in the way sometimes, you're always there for me."

"Aww, Anon is getting all mushy-mushy..."

"That, and you're fun to SQUEEEEEZE!"

With that, you take the filly into a bone crushing hug.

"AAH! Oh, OW! ANON!"

She squirms and giggles as she tries to escape your grasp.

Her efforts, however valiant, get her nowhere.

After giving her a noogie, you let her go, and she steps back.

"Damn it, dude..."

"Heheh."

As pissed as she tries to look, you can tell it's a facade.

She loves roughousing more than Cadance does.

"What, are you angry?"

"I'm gonna get you back, I hope you know that."

You give her a serious look.

And, try as you might to hold it back, a smile creeps onto your face.

"Don't make me do it."

She looks at you, giving you a condescending look.

"Oh, do what?"

"Don't make me bring out the claw."

Immediately, her ears fall to the sides of her head, her eyes widen, and her confidence falters.

"uhokayyouwin"

You burst into a chuckling fit, and as you do, you hear the doctor speak up.

"Okay," she says flatly. "She's... ready to be... packaged, I suppose."

"Leave me ze box. I can handle it. Anonymous, take dear Scootaloo to bed, and get back to Cadance so her suspicion isn't vorse zan it already is."

"Roger," you say, standing up.

And, without warning, you reach down and wrap your hands around Scootaloo, picking her up like a small dog.

"See you in the morning, doc?"

She nods.

"Of course. Have a good night."

"Good night."

"Nighty night, doctor!"

And, with that, you head out the door, slam it behind you, and make your way back into the hotel.

You make your way back into the hotel, Scootaloo nestled under your arm.

"So, we still goin' with the plan you had?"

Oh, that's right.

You nod.

"Yeah. Let's get some tissues before we go back to the room."

"Wait, hold on."

You reach into your coat pocket.

Oh.

So that's where you put the TP Cadance gave you.

Jesus Christ, that's a little weird, Anon, It's like you're packing.

But instead of a revolver, you have grade-C asswipe.

Nice.

After taking a moment to contemplate the fact that your suit could probably hide anything you want it to, you rip open the roll of toilet paper and tear some tissue off.

You wipe some of Spitfire's blood off of your suit, arms, hands, and wherever else.

Then, you hand the bloodied tissues to Scootaloo.

"Sorry, Scoots," you say, holding them in front of her.

She begrudgingly takes them, and covers her nose.

"You owe me for this."

"Hey. Remember, you still have three hundred bits from that poker game you rigged."

"Oh, come on! You're graspin' at hay, now! Besides, that wasn't even your money!"

"I got you your scooter."

"W-Well, yeah, but—"

"And I let you shoot a bunch of kids with pee."

"Okay, ya got me. Fine," she says, plugging her nose. "Just let me know as soon as I can throw these things out. It's gross. Kinda glad it doesn't smell like your piss though."

In due time, you wind up back in the hotel room.

Trixie's on the couch, KO.

Octavia is right beside her, currently being used as Trixie's pillow.

Cadance is in the bedroom.

You can tell because of the humming noises.

After a brief inspection of the room, you set Scooters down.

"Okay, go clean that up in the bathroom. Get all of that damn blood out."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," comes the nazily reply as she heads to the bathroom.

You hear Cadance giggle a little as she hears Scootaloo trot into the bathroom.

"Was it really that bad?" she asks, peeking her head out the door.

She's currently curling her hair, but not with a curling iron; she has a dozen little tube things in her hair, as well as a bunch of green paste on her face.

Looks like a Nightmare Night costume.

"Yyyyyeah, it was pretty bad. Wood is... Unforgiving, on the nose," you say.

Smooth as fucking sandpaper

"Ouch. Sounds like it hurts. I saw all of that blood on the tissues."

But, thankfully, sandpaper makes things smooth in itself.

"Yeah, I know. That was the last of the damn roll too."

"Heh, wow. That sounds like hell," she says, turning to head back into the

"I'd have to agree."

You walk over and plop your ass onto the bed.

You also admire Cadance's features as she looks herself over in the mirror.

Although she was generally a bit disheveled when it came to her appearance, she was still beautiful.

Which is to be expected; not only is she a god, but she's the go of love.

She'd probably be the god of fire, too, if Celestia didn't control the sun.

You lay back, and you cover yourself under the blankets.

Holy shit, are you tired.

Today was a long ass day.

After... Well, Scootaloo's antics, Spitfire, the other Spitfire, and a whole heap of trouble...

You're spent.

You rest your head, and let out a sigh.

"Tired, I take it?" Cadance asks sweetly.

"Yeah... Scootaloo wore me out today at the park..."

"Well, no wonder. She has more energy than Auntie Tia in the morning."

You nod, letting out a sigh.

"That's an understatement."

She giggles, and starts taking stuff out of her hair.

"That bad, huh?"

"Yyyyyeah..."

"Well, I'll tell you what," she says, starting to wipe off her face. "Tomorrow morning? How about I bring up some of the skills I learned in Canterlot?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"Such as..?"

She smiles, looking at herself in the mirror.

"You realize I'm a licensed masseur?"

"Oooh! Me likey!"

At your outburst, she lets out a giglesnort, and then goes back to tending to herself.

"I thought you would. I rub your back, you rub mine?"

You nod.

"Course."

"Good. Now, I'll be back later tonight, Anonymous. I'll see you in a few hours."

Wait, what?

"Wait, what?"

"I literally just received a message not two minutes ago."

In shock, you sit up.

"Okay, I'm just going to repeat myself. What?"

Cadance sighs, turning to you after putting on the finishing touches.

"Germane authorities. I have no idea what they want from me, but they requested an audience, and I have to give it to them. It sounded important, though, and it must be if they didn't want to state what in the letter itself."

With that, she trots over to you.

"I'll be back late, hun. Sorry."

You look up at her.

"You're gonna leave me all alone?" you say, trying to look sad.

She just laughs, and shakes her head.

"Ooohoho, no, Anonymous. I'd never do that. Trixie and Octavia will be keeping you company tonight."

"That's... Well, not as good as you, but I'll take what I can get."

She giggles adorably, and reaches in for a quick smooch on the lips before turning around and trotting off.

"I'll send them in in just a moment. Good night, Anonymous."

"Night."

"I love you," she says, stepping through the door.

"Love you too."

With that, the door latches shut.

You sigh, resting back on the bed and thinking.

As soon as she left, you could feel your anxiety and worry coming back.

And now, it's all you feel.

What the hell is going on?

What is she trying to hide?

And why are you suddenly questioning everything you've ever done with her?

Dear god, you've been thrown in for a loop.

What about the rest of the group?

Can they be trusted?

Or is this some sort of master scheme plotted against you?

Or is it something much, much bigger?

You're almost sick to your stomach, it's got you so worried.

What are you going to do?

You can't let Spitfire follow you everywhere, she'll be noticed eventually, especially if she has multiple casts.

Hell, what were you thinking, agreeing to smuggle her with in Scootloo's scooter box?

Hell, what were you thinking when you told SCOOTALOO what the hell was happening?!

You're knee deep in shit, and the flood gates are long gone.

You can only hope that whatever gods are out there have mercy on an innocent soul.

Well, perhaps not innocent; you've put your dick in multiple places it shouldn't have been.

Many partners, among them royalty, high class, and sophisticated, and a number more that weren't as formal.

Though, most of those were one time things and/or drunken stupor fuck-ups.

Especially that time you put your dick in Pinkie Pie's apple pie.

No, literally; she had baked some pie with her orange friend, and you were drunk and it dawned upon you that it might feel good on your shaft.

That was a long explanation to Ms. Cake.

And an even longer and more painful experience to watch the oblivious duo gobble it down faster than Cadance does a 'midnight snack'.

Okay, that's enough cringing for one night.